


Howling At The Moon

by intern_at_german_chapterhouse



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Azkaban, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Dark, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Memories, Minor Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Past Character Death, Past Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Sirius Black Escapes from Azkaban, Sirius Black in Azkaban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:08:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28844346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intern_at_german_chapterhouse/pseuds/intern_at_german_chapterhouse
Summary: Sirius Black spent dozens of full moons at Azkaban. Alone, wondering if his friends (the ones that survived) are okay.With Dementors lurking outside, his worst memories right there with them.Follows some of Sirius' full moons in Azkaban and one after he gets out.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Howling At The Moon

**Author's Note:**

> This fic gets a little dark, especially the last paragraph, please be careful and see the notes at the end.

**November 11th 1981**

The first full moon was just a week after Sirius got to Azkaban.

He paced his cell all day before.

He had seen the moon the past night, almost full, had remembered how restless Remus always got on those days.

When another kind of darkness crept into the prison, in addition to the one that filled the walls even in the brightest hours of the day, Sirius changed into the dog.

The dog paced the cell all night.

There was something he should be doing, someone he should be protecting.

There were three others he should be running through the forests with.

His best friends.

They should be together.

They had to be, for Moony!

Why weren't they?

They couldn't be gone, they couldn't all be gone!

When he woke the next morning, Sirius' hands and feet were bloody and raw from the stone floor he had paced up and down all night.

The sun was rising outside of the small window in his cell and its light hurt his eyes.

The sharp pain made tears well up and he let them fall.

Who was going to see them anyway?

**December 11th 1981**

Darkness fell around him again.

It fit the darkness inside him so well.

Without a second thought, Sirius turned into the dog again.

And he howled at the moon as if he was the wolf.

He howled because even if he had been a human, a real person, he couldn't have found the words.

Because the feelings boiling within him had closed up his throat weeks ago.

He hadn't spoken a word since yelling at Peter. Screaming and cursing at him and asking him why and shouting every bad thing that would come to mind.

Since then he'd only growled at people.

He must seem like he was mad but he didn't care.

Couldn't care.

He was too filled with rage and anger.

At Peter for being the cowardly traitor he was.

At himself for trusting Peter instead of Moony.

At Moony for acting so weird.

At Dumbledore for not doing more to keep the Potters safe.

At James and Lily for dyi-

And so the dog howled.

It howled loud enough to drown out the noise of the other prisoners complaining.

Made its rage and anger known to the world for as far as the wind carried its voice over the sea.

The dog howled until the sun rose the next morning.

Then it curled itself into a ball and fell asleep, tired and exhausted.

And still so fucking angry.

**January 9th 1982**

He'd spent the whole day as a dog.

Couldn't bear not being Padfoot.

If only he had trusted Remus. If only he had told him he wasn't the Secret Keeper. If only they had made Remus the Keeper.

How could he have been so stupid?

Why hadn't he seen that Peter was working against them?

For the first time in months, he let himself truly think of Remus.

Was he alone? Was he tearing himself up again?

Was he still with the pack Dumbledore had sent him to right before Lily and Jam-

Did he even know what had happened?

Who had told him?

Had someone been there for him?

Did he...

Did he believe them?

He had to.

Otherwise, he'd come to see him, right?

Or...

Or had something happened to him?

Was Remus dead?

The dog let out a short howl, a sharp voice from two cells over yelled at him.

He'd kill the bitch if he could get out.

Maybe he could.

But what would good would that do?

He'd be out of here in a second if it would change anything.

He'd give his own life if it just brought them back.

He'd do anything to make it up to Remus, for the way he had treated him.

If he wanted to, he could probably get out.

The cells weren't built to contain dogs.

And with every passing day he'd become slimmer and smaller, he could break out.

But what good would it do?

Lily and James were dead.

Remus was dead or gone or believed that he was a traitor.

Peter, the traitor, was dead.

The war was over, wasn't that what people kept saying?

Sirius would have left if he could have changed anything.

But he couldn't.

And so he stayed, howling at the moon, ignoring his cousin's voice, begging the sky to give back his friends.

His family.

Begging.

**February 8th 1982**

After the last moon, he hadn't turned back.

Sirius was gone.

He was just the dog now.

He lay in the corner of his cell, barely moving at all.

Sometimes he got up to eat the food they pushed in.

Sometimes he let it sit there until the rats came and chased one of those down and ate it.

Sometimes he just watched the rats eat the food.

When the moon rose high enough to shine into his cell, he didn't even get up.

He just watched the light wander through his cell, from one end to the other.

Remus was probably watching the moon too.

Or he was dead.

That seemed more likely.

They were all dead.

They were all gone.

Sirius was gone too.

Padfoot but its head back down on its paws and closed its eyes.

Tired.

Dead.

Gone.

**March 9th 1982**

Sirius sat up.

He'd been the dog for two months.

When he saw the moon again he couldn't just stay Padfoot anymore.

He leaned against the wall.

Cold, wet, hard against his back.

The shirt they'd given him in November had fit pretty well back then. Now it hung from frail shoulders and would probably almost cover his knees if he ever stood up.

He could hear Bellatrix sneer about the Dark Lord, how he'd come back, two cells down.

He growled at her and she shut up.

As he sat there, his head leaning against the cool stone, hair falling into his face, body aching all over, his mind wandered back to the people outside.

Harry. Poor little Harry. Where was he? Who was taking care of him?

Dumbledore must have found someplace safe for the boy. Somewhere he'd be showered with love and told stories about how brave his parents had been. The others from the Order would watch over him. They wouldn't let anything else happen to him.

Harry was safe.

Mary was probably looking after him as well. She must be heartbroken, but she'd help take care of her best friend's son.

She'd be looking after all of them. She'd always done that.

The others from the Order must be so happy the war was over.

Molly and Arthur could focus on their kids again, maybe they'd have another one, they always wanted a girl.

Dumbledore and McGonagall could finally concentrate on teaching and the kids at Hogwarts again.

Yes, they'd all be sad over losing James and Lily but defeating Voldemort had been their primary goal.

And Remus. Merlin, Remus.

He had to be okay.

He had to be safe.

Mary was looking after him, for sure.

He had to be okay.

But that meant that he believed what everyone else seemed to believe.

That Sirius had betrayed his best friend.

Had condemned them and their baby to death.

That was Sirius' own bloody fault.

The way he had treated Remus in those last months.

He'd been a horrible friend and an even worse boyfriend.

He had fucked it up.

Of course he had.

But Remus was going to be okay.

They were all going to be okay.

And so Sirius settled in for the night. He watched the moon and stopped worrying.

He turned back into the dog before the sun rose.

It was easier, as Padfoot.

Easier to accept.

They'd all be okay.

And he'd stay in prison.

It was what he deserved.

For being such an asshole, so stupid he couldn't see that Peter was betraying them.

So idiotic he had actually thought Remus was the spy.

It was the price he had to pay for his sins.

He laid back down in the corner and finally let the darkness in.

He'd fought so hard to keep it out, keep the dementors out.

He couldn't do it anymore.

And then they washed over him, all the horrible moments of his short life, the betrayals, the fights, the deaths, the torture at his family's hand, the disappointment in Remus' eyes after the prank, the hurt in Moony's eyes when he had left that October afternoon.

As those terrible memories took hold over his mind, he gave in. Gave up.

It was what he deserved.

This. Forever.

And he sank into the darkness.

**October 30th 1993**

Padfoot stood at the edge of the forest.

The Dementors were floating over the grounds but he kept low to the ground.

He wouldn't let them spoil his plan.

He hadn't let them keep him in Azkaban after seeing the picture of the traitor.

He wasn't going to let them keep him from entering Hogwarts.

The moon rose over the lake and he watched the tree.

Remus hadn't shown up.

Hadn't gone through the tunnel to the shack.

Where was he? No! He's not the one he's concerned about!

Peter. Peter's the one he's here for!

To kill Peter!

And still, his eyes wandered to the office he knew was Remus'. Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was perfect. Remus would be perfect.

He'd seen him, the day before, walking the grounds.

He looked haggard and older than he was, but he was alive.

Padfoot hadn't been sure.

The lights in the office were on. He could see a dark shadow standing there, transforming, falling to the ground.

Not the one. Not the one he's here for.

Focus.

Not the one he's here for, but the one he wants to run to.

To tell him everything.

About Peter and the betrayal, about how sorry he was, how stupid he had been.

About how much he loved him.

But he couldn't.

Even if Remus wouldn't kill him on sight, even if he didn't believe Sirius had betrayed them.

Padfoot couldn't say any of those things.

The rage he had felt all those years ago had caught fire again, was burning so hot inside his chest it hurt.

After years of nothingness, years of cowering in a corner and reliving his darkest memories over and over again, there was nothing left.

Nothing of the man who could have talked to Moony.

Nothing of the man who should have raised Harry.

He hadn't even known how long it had been until he'd seen the boy.

Seen James, standing there, with green eyes.

He'd wanted nothing more than to walk up to him.

But he couldn't.

Not with all this hate.

And so he let the anger take over.

Let its fire burn him up, warm his cold and stiff joints, give him back the energy he hadn't felt in over a decade.

And so he cowered back down into the shadows as the sun's light illuminated the castle.

Tonight.

Tonight he'd go into the castle and finish it.

Finally finish it all.

And if it killed him.

If it killed him, would that be such a bad thing?

As the dog closed its eyes it came to the conclusion that that might be what he wanted.

What he'd hope for.

If he could still hope for anything.

**Author's Note:**

> CN: mentions suicidal thoughts, past abuse and grief over loved ones' deaths


End file.
